


Scary Dicks and Nice Sprites

by nuclearwinter, orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cloaca, Davesprite Has A Cloaca, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, or uh Alternate Selves With Benefits anyway, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7562851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearwinter/pseuds/nuclearwinter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave helps Davesprite (who is still very much part-crow) figure out what's going on between his brand new legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scary Dicks and Nice Sprites

Davesprite is lying naked with his back against Dave's headboard and his legs pressed together.

"Show me the D," he says.

Dave turns from where he was digging the lube out of a pile of clothes and obliges, shucking his pants and boxers down and sauntering over. This is not really the most surreal thing he's done, but it's up there.

"Hello," drawls Davesprite.

"Are you honestly talking to my dick?"

"Look, it's been a while since I saw the guy, okay? Hey, Lil D."

"Ain't nothing little about the Stridinator."

"Oh man, is that what you call it now?"

"Oh fuck, I forgot I used to call it Lil D, aw dude, why did you have to go and remind me?"

"That's the whole reason I exist. To remind of your embarrassing preteen years, like a walking talking myspace account—" (Dave flops on him) "—that you can fuck."

"Oh my god, shut up," says Dave.

Somehow the ensuing struggle ends in kissing. When they break apart, Davesprite's mouth is shiny and pink and his black feathers are fluffing a little.

"You really sure about this?" asks Dave. "Like, don't you wanna wait? For someone special, or something."

Davesprite's hands flutter along Dave's back. "Ain't no one more special than you, shortbus."

"I'm not going to touch your bird cooch if you're going to be on that level."

Davesprite huffs. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He kisses Dave's cheekbone, a little peck. "I'm sure, okay?"

Reassured, Dave closes his eyes against the weirdness of his own face and loses himself in another kiss. There's more rolling, being careful of wings, until Dave is on his back and Davesprite is perched above him on all fours. Dave gets his fingers wet before reaching down and touching Davesprite's delicate parts, spread open by the way his knees bracket Dave's hips. Davesprite is tense and quiet as he starts probing around. His fingers go in easily, but it's weird inside. Super tight but also—

Davesprite whines unhappily, his voice turning into a throaty squawk at the end. "Dude, dude, stop that's the wrong, uh—"

Dave freezes. "Gimme some help man, I dunno what's even happening in here."

"God. Can't you feel like, I dunno, it branches? Well," Davesprite says, drawing out the word sarcastically, "one hole is good and the other one is bad, super complex, I know."

Dave swallows his own irritation—he knows exactly what he himself is like when he's feeling vulnerable and in pain—and moves his fingers, tries again. This time, Davesprite shivers and sort of collapses on top of him. His wings come up all around them and he buries his face in Dave's neck and Dave can hear him trying to swallow little sounds as he pushes his fingers deeper before withdrawing, and doing it again.

He manages three fingers and then Davesprite is squirming and humping down on him faster and faster, and then he is letting out a long drunk caw that vibrates against Dave's neck as he comes. He gets a whole lot more slippery (not as slippery as a nook, but oh well, that's not what he's thinking about today) and he keeps rubbing himself all over Dave.

"Holy shit," he is saying. "What the fuck."

Dave tries to keep his fingers stiff so Davesprite can do his thing. He can't follow all the words falling out of his double's mouth, except—

"G-god please, please fuck me," he is babbling, and Dave is having an extremely complicated boner about it. Half of him is cringing at how desperate his own voice sounds, the needy look on his own face. The other half really really likes the way Davesprite feels on his fingers and, yes, he wants it on his cock.

(And 0% of him wants to make a mess of Davesprite, take care of his dumb baby self, spoil him like maybe he deserves (absolutely not).)

So he pushes him up, guides his hips and gets him to slide down slowly slowly slowly onto his cock.

"Oooooh," coos Davesprite, "oh fuuuuck. That hurts."

"Stop?" asks Dave, voice about as strangled as his dick currently is. Holy damn this birdgina is tight.

"No… no…"

Davesprite keeps slowly pushing himself down, making pained little peeps as he does. Dave's boner is going through phase two of its identity crisis, which involves a slight increase in cringing at knowing what his own face looks like when he takes it, and a whole lot more horniness at how good it feels.

Davesprite is sort of curled in a sitting up position, unable to bend forwards or backwards—his face goes pained when he does.

"Damn, it really isn't little," he says, and the bravado in his voice is so fake that Dave doesn't know if he wants to escape or hug him.

"Take it slow," he says, and rubs Davesprite's thighs.

After a while he starts grinding, then bouncing, and then Dave feels a flush spreading down his neck and chest and sweat standing out all over his body as he tries not to thrust up, tries to just let Davesprite do his thing, but the look on his face, mouth slack and open as he fucks himself, tips Dave's brain over into white static.

"I can't," he slurs, and Davesprite curls down onto him, he feels sloppy and wet and dripping everywhere. Dave pulls out and rolls them, Davesprite whining and clinging, and he finally gets him on his back, wings folded awkwardly, but by the look on his face he doesn't care.

"Please," says Davesprite, "put it back."

Dave pushes in and he caws again, gets Davesprite's legs over his shoulders and leans in and goes to town, hips snapping in and fucking Davesprite into the mattress, rains sloppy kisses on his face. They babble at each other.

"Do you like that," he is asking, "does it feel good, god, god…"

Davesprite gasps and chirps and tries to grab for Dave's face. "Yes yes yes you feel so good, I'm going to come, you're gonna make me come, I can't, I can't, I can't—"

And then he goes blindingly tight and Dave gets another 1080p widescreen display of his own o-face. He tries to pull out, but Davesprite's legs cross behind his back and trap him in.

"Peep, uuhhnnnnnnnn," he whines, and his insides squeeze Dave, and then Dave loses it deep inside him.

He naps.

When he wakes up, Davesprite has his fingers inside himself, slick with all sorts of fluids, and he's vibrating like he's going to come again.

Dave lazily strokes his hair until he does, shaking and sweating and tearing up a little, like maybe that wasn't the second time, or even the third. How long was Dave out?

"G-g-g-goddamn," says Davesprite, and then he lets out more scratchy peeps.

"You okay?" Dave asks.

"Dude, I hadn't come in like a billion years. I didn't even know I could anymore. Oh shit. I think I broke my cooch, I think I broke my everything, uh hhhnnn…"

Dave tugs his fingers out and cups his hand there instead.

"Give yourself a rest, birdbrain."

Davesprite snorts. "Wow. What an original, creative insult. You must be taking pointers from Jade."

Dave just squeezes between his legs very gently, and says, "Go the fuck to sleep."


End file.
